Zombies in the Sun
by Mycroft-mione
Summary: It's the hottest day of the year, and Sirius just wants to get a cold drink and a fan. But when he gets surrounded by a pack of bloodthirsty zombies... well, he doesn't mind the heat so much. WOLFSTAR


Word count: 801

Written for Liza (NeonDomino). Love you! This was supposed to be a drabble, but I got caught up in the zombies and cuteness and _you know_ I'm easily swayed by how cute something is. Enjoy...

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 **Zombies in the Sun**

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Sirius blamed his sluggish behavior on the weather. While toting a stack of letters and a mug of coffee to the waiting cab, he acknowledged the sunshine with a glare and 'humph' that failed to improve his sour mood. He'd never appreciated London's gloom and rainstorms more than today, when the temperatures exceeded 30 degrees and portable fans were conspicuously absent from his flat.

Thankfully, the bright red post drop box allowed his envelopes to fit, so Sirius left with a greater spring in his step. He hurried back home, where - maybe - he could put ice on his forehead until the awful day was over.

Then, the zombies starting swarming.

Sirius froze, staring at the people dressed in rags and dripping with a slimy substance that looked like blood and guts. One broke away from the crowd, sticking out its arms to blunder forward.

"Help! Help!" he screamed, batting away invisible irritants. They were everywhere - the dead eyes and peeling skin. "Oh, God, it wasn't supposed to be this way! I have an apocalypse survival kit at home; don't hurt m-"

The zombie signaled to the others, which backed away to form a ring. Sirius frowned; did zombies communicate like that? He stopped screaming, squinting at the hideous creatures that continued to keep their distance.

"Wh-what do you want from me?" he sputtered, his voice still high and afraid.

The zombies exchanged looks - did they? - and the leader turned back towards him. Some bloody slime dripped off a strand of his hair and fell to the ground - plop!

The zombie leader quickly pushed its patchy hair out of it face and spoke: "Sorry, I bet that's a bit gross."

Sirius backed away, a shrill yelp escaping his lips. "AGGGH! You talk?!"

"You can stop pretending," said the zombie, laughing. "You were doing a good job, though. Did they hire you to be a victim?"

Sirius couldn't process what he was hearing. "You don't want to eat my brains?"

The zombie put a hand to his face, scratching and tugging until a messy mask of makeup and prosthetics came off in his hand. "No," he replied. Now Sirius could see a human face behind the mask, one with bright eyes and an endearing smile. "Not today, at least."

"Oh," said Sirius, still shaken. "I guess that's good news."

The zombie tilted his head. "Wait, you weren't part of the crawl?"

"What crawl?" Sirius asked in an animated fashion. He stared at the cute zombie - was he calling a zombie cute? "Listen, I'm just here to get home... I live on this block."

The other zombies, still perfectly clothed and made-up, began to disperse at this admission. Sirius could've sworn he heard one mumble something about "better luck on 22nd Street."

"Hey, I'm sorry. I had no idea." The zombie was still smiling at him like they'd known each other for years. "I'm Remus. And you?"

"Sirius," he answered, flummoxed. He couldn't stop staring at Remus, the pretend zombie. The man was seriously beautiful now that the fake blood was gone.

"Nice name," Remus told him. He wasn't leaving, yet most of his crew had wandered off to terrorize new people. Did that mean he had a hope?

"I'm sorry for screaming in your face before. You look a lot different without your makeup, though. I guess that's kudos to your makeup artist or whoever made you look so scary." Sirius finally grinned. He had his groove back for sure.

"Is that a compliment?"

"Do you want it to be?"

"Okay, Sirius," Remus said, gazing at Sirius, barely blinking. His eyes started to wander after a while, but they always returned to his eyes, and Sirius gulped.

"Sure," Sirius said easily. "Great. Hey listen-" he began, stopping short. Remus waited, letting him talk at his own pace. "D'you want to get coffee sometime? Maybe when you're not wearing rags and a wig?"

"Oh-" Remus said, as if he hadn't remembered he was dressed like a zombie and passersby were avoiding them at all costs.

"I didn't mean- it's not that I mind-"

"Yeah, I get it." Remus smiled at him again, and Sirius's heart leapt. "I'll go up to my flat and change... You can come up and wait, if you want. We could go out after."

"Really?" Sirius said in disbelief. "You'd do that?"

"Why not? The zombie crawl was supposed to end an hour ago. You were our last, our encore performance."

"That's great!" Sirius halfheartedly waved at the other zombies. Some waved back; some were too busy frightening small children to notice. He followed Remus through the streets, wandering their way towards Remus's flat.

"So, you do this stuff often?" he asked, trying to make conversation.

"This as in walking home with a cute zombie attack victim? Not often enough."


End file.
